All Things End
by idleness
Summary: Shinko wonders where all that time went. Written for Muse as part of Fief Goldenlake's Secret Admirer Exchange 2014.


September came to be their most treasured month. The summer visits of the nobility were over, court had resumed in Corus, and the realm returned to business as usual. This was when Roald and Shinko withdrew to the summer palace.

Shinko remembered how the tradition started. The first year they went as newlyweds, fumbling awkwardly in the dark as they got to know one another better. Liano was conceived in this time. The second year they had been ready to return to court at the end of August, infant in tow, when Thayet urged them to take another month for themselves.

"You will cherish these times, one day," the queen had said wistfully, baby Liano in her arms. "When Jon and I married... We never got the freedom you two have. Stay for the equinox at least."

Shinko lit a stick of incense that night, to thank the gods for her mother-in-law.

Now she found herself wading in the shallows at the beach with Roald, light cotton kimono hiked up to her knees, as the children splashed in the water for a last swim before their departure. Liano was nine years old, all elbows and knees, with a forceful personality. After Liano were Jonathan and Gareth, and finally little George, who didn't like water and rode happily above it on his father's shoulders. It was Liano's last September with them; she would be a page by this time the following year.

Now Shinko truly appreciated Thayet's advice.

Later, after the children had been put to bed, Shinko and Roald sat together on a high west-facing balcony. The evenings were still mild but the sun was sinking earlier as the equinox approached. As the skies turned dusky Roald used his Gift to light the brazier placed there.

They sat in contemplative silence, watching the stars brighten and the flames flicker in the light sea breeze. The next morning they would return to Corus and duty.

"In Yaman we have a saying, 'to meet is the beginning of parting,'" Shinko murmured. "It means that all things end."

Roald smiled and continued to watch the brazier.

"Until next summer," he said quietly.

Shinko nodded. Neither of them mentioned the obvious.

"Shall we invite Yuki and Neal next year?"

"I suppose," said Roald, smiling. "So long as Neal doesn't get into any more philosophical debates with Zahir."

Shinko smiled. The previous year had been disastrous—Roald usually liked to keep guests who didn't get along separate if he could, but a spate of unseasonal weather had meant visits had overlapped and everyone was confined indoors. Neal couldn't stop himself from picking at others' prejudices, and spent two days trading poisoned barbs with Zahir. Roald eventually lost his temper and told both of them if they wanted to squabble like little Jonny and Gary, he'd send them to their rooms until the dinner bell rang. Poor Roald so hated conflict during their holiday time. Shinko and Yuki had to remove themselves from the room before they lost their composure entirely.

"Queenscove is only a morning's ride away. Yuki likes short visits, and they can leave the youngest ones with their nannies," Shinko reasoned.

"Willa will miss Liano," Roald said softly. Neal's daughter Willamina was a year younger than Liano, and the two girls were very close.

"Willa will cope," said Shinko, amused. "Like we will."

Roald sighed.

"You're so hard-hearted," he said with mock reproach.

"I am not—you're too tender-hearted," she retorted, smiling. "If I were your mother, I'd have beaten it out of you."

"What makes you think she didn't try?"

"You're right. I must conclude that she forgot the bread and water suppers after the beatings."

"Hah! We actually got that once, in page training. A whole week—breakfast, lunch and dinner—and Lord Wyldon added extra weights to our harnesses for good measure."

"Yes, now you mention it, I recall Kel said something about that once. What did you do again?"

"There was a brawl in the stable. I think Neal's tongue started it," drawled Roald.

Shinko gave an unmannerly snort.

"The more things change..." she began.

"The more they stay the same," Roald finished, smiling. "Yes, all right. You're right. You usually are."

"I'm glad you know it," Shinko retorted.

Roald stood and offered her his arm.

"It's our last evening here. Shall we turn in for the night, my love?"

Shinko smiled and allowed herself to be led inside. Maybe she would light another stick of incense later.


End file.
